


Days in Crimson

by Star_Miya



Series: The Thanalan Tinies on the path of Light and Shadow [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Miya/pseuds/Star_Miya
Summary: Sometimes you may need a break from the world, but the rest doesn't come, so all that's left is find a new job and follow where it takes you. Like Helvi did.
Relationships: Arya Gastaurknan & Warrior of Light, X'rhun Tia & Warrior of Light
Series: The Thanalan Tinies on the path of Light and Shadow [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591168
Kudos: 3





	1. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the mentor and the student try to figure each other out.

In her eyes, X’rhun Tia doesn't seem tired at all.

She comes at him with all she's got, her large sword against his fancy rapier, but he dodges or parries her every blow, seemingly without effort. Always focused, but also... enjoying himself? Is it because of finding a worthy opponent– no, a worthy student? Or because of being able to do all those wondrous wonders with the blade and magic? What a strange man. If she learns enough from him, will she revel in it too? For the first time in her life this thought doesn't bother her. With her heart as numb as it is now, it may not bother her ever again...

In his eyes, Helvi Seawalker looks exhausted.

Not her body, perhaps, but her mind and soul. Eyes darkened, teeth gritted – as if there was another fight going on in her head – in memories, perhaps? And yet, her body knows what to do, almost like it moves on its own. When he moves on to attack her, she can easily predict his every move. Yes, she did warn him about it before the sparring, but he doesn’t mind. It is the way she fights that puzzles him. She swings her sword like a knight, while moving with a graceful, light step of a dancer – how to work with that? What would be the best approach to teaching a woman who apparently has picked up different elements from different fighting styles and combined them into something…

Something strangely new and different. Like red magic all those centuries ago.

Funny thought, but not an unpleasant one.

“Different people tried to teach me how to fight within the last five years,” she admits in a tired tone of someone who had to explain it too many times. “And I did spend some time with Thavnairian dancers. Is this a problem?”

“Hopefully not,” he hums pensively, “It can give you an advantage, provided that you change the rhythm and pace every now and then. Otherwise your opponent may figure you out even without any supernatural aid.”

“Unless I distract them first with my grace and allure?”

“As long as you don’t try that against Garlean war machines, sure.”

“With this,” she glances at her sword with a hint of strange resentment, “I’m closer to becoming a war machine myself. And yet, Menphina freeze me if I’m not distracted while training with you.”

He lets out a confused chuckle. “I don’t know whether I’m to feel flattered or cautious of what you’re going to do about it.”

“That’s up to you,” she replies with a shrug. In another life she would flutter her eyelashes and wink, but these days it’s mostly recurrent images of past failures that distract her. Past losses, coming all at once to weigh on her.

But in these rare moments of exchanging glances – she looks away too often and being taller than him doesn’t help either – she can see in his eyes a glint of understanding. No surprise here, he did mention his contribution to he war against the King of Ruin, and must have been carrying his own burden for… how long? Half his life?

And knowing that makes her want to learn from him of something more than how to fight for real.

* * *

The joy on his face when she shows him her brand new rapier is genuine and infectious. Enough for her to blush – of embarrassment? Pride? Even she can’t tell.

“I know it is not much, but maybe it will do for a beginner,” she mumbles, ruffling her hair even more, “By a beginner.”

“There’s no need to be that modest, Helvi!” X’rhun laughs heartily, trying the weapon out with an elegant swish, “If you managed to craft yourself a suitable blade after but a few glances at mine, ‘a beginner’ does not fit you at all.”

“Well, sleeping with the soul crystal under my pillow might have helped too.”

“Fair. I’ve never considered how a soul crystal might work for someone who can literally see the past, but now that I think of it… I assume it can help you a lot.”

He still sounds impressed, not meaning to belittle her skills. She knows that... and yet she winces.

“Fast learning comes with being the Chosen One, I suppose. But this,” she sighs and touches the tools at her belt, “This I’ve learnt on my own. At least this.”

“You feel like you’re cheating, I get that.”

“That’s it. Or… I don’t know. Like I’m torn between my true calling and an obligation.” She shakes her head, looking for the right words, so he just sits beside her, laying her rapier between them.

Like in old ballads of courtly love. What a silly thought.

“What if – instead of dwelling on it – you tried thinking of how to use those skills well? To help those in need?...” Oh no. Oh no, no. His last words reverberate in her head and heart, making her want to… not cry, maybe, but shout out loud.

“Right. I tried, I swear,” she looks away again, and then hides her face in hands, just for a while, “But, as I realized recently, helping people is not always rewarding. Or even welcome.”

“It is. Always. Sooner or later.” He says it so fiercely and yet so warmly that she’s almost inclined to start believing in it again. Almost. Because how come there has been no new generation of Crimson Duelists walking the world and helping those in need? A whole bunch of red-clad idealists trained by the man who’s sitting beside her, passing those very words to everyone who needs to hear them?

Damn, he clearly enjoys teaching and knows how to keep it interesting, but…

“We could start a fine partnership, you know. You would take students and I would arm them,” she tries prompting him, but all she gets in reply is an absent-minded hum. Perhaps he’s not listening at all.

“Say… What exactly did the soul crystal show you?”

Wait, what? That change of subject is not something she’d expect. He asks in a light tone, but she’d swear his perpetual frown looks more… frowny. Unless she’s imagining things.

“Honestly? Flashes, mostly. Glimpses. Things I could sense– feel rather than see. Why?”

He nods in acknowledgement. “Curiosity. Forgive me if I’ve been one of many to pry.” His smile, wide and unexpected, makes all her uneasiness fade away.

“Well then,” he leaps to his feet and stretches, tail swaying behind him, “Let’s put your new blade to the test, shall we? There’s no better way to see if our new partnership pays off.”

* * *

He knows now, not to overdo with praise, when the time comes to practice some actual magic. Speaking of fast learning...

Truth be told, this kind of magic _is_ new to her, judging by her astonished expression, and yet... The flames seem to grow straight from her heart, like large and deadly flowers. The wind gusts are as restless as her thoughts. And the thunders... Twelve, all those thunders make him think of Rhalgr’s wrath, of vengeance and destruction. Where could she contain that storm? For how long?

And then… The more spells she casts, the more serene she looks.

"Careful, Helvi," he warns her; she might be a natural, but a bit of concern will do no harm, "You might have unleashed the power of the elements, but controlling them in battle is another matter.”

“I know, I know,” she smiles ruefully, watching the storm clouds around the focus crystal disperse. “I saw my fellow Scions cast enough black and white spells to carve it into my soul.”

“And learn from them, I take it.”

She shakes her head. “Not really. They wouldn’t mind teaching me, Papalymo was especially eager to start, but… I don’t know. It felt like being forced to pick a side. Arcanima seemed like a better idea, but then again, among all those intellectuals I was like a nail that sticks out.”

“How so?” He can’t hide his surprise. “You’re clearly not stupid and your carbuncle knows how to behave.”

“On my carbuncle’s behalf, thank you. The thing is, my seeing art when they saw science made communication a bit difficult. Like describing the same thing, but in different languages.” She lets out a wry chuckle. “Funny that the idea of joining the black and the white like this didn’t occur to me.”

“Never heard of the red mages of eld before?”

“You mean those from Mhach and Amdapor? I did actually… Not from academic lectures, but from a minstrel’s ballad,” she watches the focus crystal closely and it gives a warm glow in her hands, “A tale of forbidden romance and passion. I’m pretty sure my sister remade it, leaving next to nothing from the original.”

Her words make him laugh… and she doesn’t seem to take offence. Perhaps that was her intention. “Red magic born from love? A concept worth giving a thought. And not entirely untrue.”

“Then the lore I’ve got is not entirely useless... Watch this!” Suddenly her voice takes a sharp tone and another thunder fulminates from her aether, right in his direction. Ah, straight to the lesson of how to use magic in battle? So let it be!

A strong jolt clashes with her spell, disturbing it and reflecting its power back at her. She does show promise, but at this stage of training it will be too much for her to hold on. She has to dodge– she can dodge it if she does not hesitate…

Her hesitation lasts but a second – a second too long to avoid the damage. As soon as she falls to the ground with a groan – of irritation rather than pain – he’s there by her side, healing magic prepared.

“Serves me right,” she concludes with a shrug, “Don’t– Stop. I mean it, stop!” she repeats, trying to move away, “How am I supposed to take this lesson to heart if I’m healed too soon?”

He smiles and does not withhold the spell. “Accepting help when you need it is an important lesson too.”

“Let me decide what I need. That– that is too much,” she insists, shaking her head… As if she didn’t deserve such a simple gesture. Is that what she really meant when she said all those things about helping those in need? Herself?

Surely she couldn’t mean other people – the concern and kindness she showed Wilkin’s daughters on the day of their first meeting contradicted her words...

Still smiling, he offers his hand to help her up. She hesitates again, but takes it with a sigh.

“Disappointed in me yet?”

“Why?” He raises an eyebrow. “Trying to prove me wrong?”

She lets go of his hand and takes a step back. “Just wondering if you don’t regret offering me your guidance.”

“I don’t see why I should,” his smile only widens, “But that attitude of yours makes me wonder why you accepted my offer.”

Her thoughts run wild, he can almost see them. And in anticipation, he realizes her answer will be important to their further training.

“Because…” she finally says, somewhat reluctantly, “I decided to trust your judgement rather than mine.”

“You chose to trust a stranger met a moment before?” He can’t help but chuckle, as she looks surprised by her own conclusion. In fact, so is he – what in the Seven Hells did he expect? Perhaps she didn’t really mean it, perhaps it was a first random thought that came to her, but somehow… It sounds right. And fits her perfectly.

“And why not?” She creates a gentle gust of wind and does a little dance along with it, “When your long-time friends don’t know how to talk to you, because you’ve started doing things they didn’t expect, then… Well, it may be the right moment to trust a stranger.” She stops and looks right at him, arms wide open. “Or confide in one.”

Is that… an invitation? To confide or listen to confessions? An opportunity to figure out the puzzle named Helvi Seawalker? ‘Tis not something one could refuse.

“Another interesting concept,” he muses, “How about we discuss it at the Coffer & Coffin?”

“Deal,” she eyes him curiously, as if she thought… No, really? “Drinks on me, though. As a thank you for sticking around.”

“That, my friend, won’t be necessary. As you may remember, Master Wilkin rewarded us handsomely…”

“Despite your faint protests…”

“...Despite my faint protests, and we can put this reward to good use at the inn. Didn’t I say helping others pays off sooner or later?”

Her smile doesn’t quite reach the eyes, but it is a smile nonetheless. “Lead the way, stranger.”


	2. Investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some actual plot happens and the family gets bigger.

The evening they find Arya could be called perfect. The warm colours of the sky, the gentle breeze, the sound of waves… Nature is not bothered by the mess its inhabitants make – like those two corpses lying on the pier. Like their cargo, which contains imperial weapons.

“They have the same sigil as those we fought before,” X’rhun says regretfully, while examining the dead bodies. Same dark robes, too, and magic staves, but that is plain to see. “Whoever replaced their souls with this vile magic, must have tremendous power. And no respect for life.”

His brilliant student nods in agreement, glaring daggers at the suspicious crates, now that the ship that transported them is gone. However, the moment she turns to the maiden who only remembers her name, her expression turns soft and gentle, same as her voice and gestures.

They talk for a while, but nothing of the essence comes out of it, as the maiden in question can recall nothing else about herself or those who locked her up.

“You’re not a stowaway, I presume. No one would get on that ship willingly,” the red mage walks up to look closely at the crate. Seeing him approach, Arya gasps in fear and cowers behind her rescuer. The tall woman leans over and whispers something to her ear, while glancing at X’rhun with a playful smile that brightens her face. The girl calms down a little, but still catches breath with some effort and her eyes are as clouded as her mind. No wonder – the inside of the crate smells like a laboratory of a particularly wicked alchemist.

“I wish we had a way to restore them,” Helvi says, as she comes near the corpses, “if only to spite their master.” Her last remark cannot fool anyone who has ever seen her get down on one knee and say her usual prayer for the assassins’ lost souls – just as she does now. A sight all too familiar to her mentor.

Then, however, she does something unexpected, taking a staff out of the dead woman’s hands and staring at it in silence, until she makes a wide sweeping motion and throws it into the sea.

“What in the world was that?!” X’rhun cries out in surprise. “Why are you removing the evidence?!”

“Just one insignificant piece,” Helvi says through gritted teeth, “I couldn’t bear my handiwork being used for… that. Sorry.”

“Your handiwork?”

“Some time ago I was commissioned by the Thaumaturges’ Guild to craft ten of those for new members... I wonder if that woman used to be one of them.”

“If the cabal can spirit away the fledgeling thaumaturges, things are even worse than we thought.” X’rhun’s voice is calm, but his tail bristles. “Also, the guildmaster may want that staff back.”

“I’ll make a new one,” Helvi says flatly, “and then I can conduct my own little investigation. There is a reliable Flame Captain I can call; we helped each other a few times. I’m sure he can ask around the guild about any missing members.”

“In that case, I will notify the Aleport authorities about the cargo we’ve intercepted. As for our other find…” the red mage pauses and looks at Arya musingly. The girl has frozen a few steps behind Helvi, clearly torn between her new friend’s comforting presence and staying away from the dead. Finally, Helvi solves her dilemma, simply coming closer and shielding her from the dreadful sight.

Gods, this has been a busy day.

* * *

“She’s sleeping like a baby,” Helvi informs X’rhun from the door, “The beds here must be much more comfortable than some old crate.”

“Clearly. And she must have been exhausted,” he says and invites her to sit with him, holding a filled glass in his hand. Is that juice or something stronger? She’s already noticed he doesn’t keep off alcohol when there’s a cause for celebration, but hardly drinks it when things get serious, at least if she’s around. This time the glass is completely full.

Helvi says nothing to that and orders a cup of tea.

“Magically altered assassins, supporters of the Ala Mhigan Resistance being targeted, a shipment of military supplies…” she starts itemising under her breath, “That’s what we’ve got so far. How does a drugged teenage girl fit the whole picture?”

“Another merchant’s kidnapped child?” X’rhun smiles wryly, “Or a sacrificial maiden for the cabal’s dark rituals?”

She snorts into her tea. “Shut it, that’s disturbing!... And brilliant, actually.” She puts the cup aside and tilts her head. “What if that’s how they, uh, recruit new cannon fodder?”

That gets him interested. “You think they were going to brand her as well?”

“Either that, or use her for target practice. A cute little moving target.”

He winces. “Who’s got disturbing ideas now…”

“Hey, I’m learning all I can from you.”

“Then learn from my virtues, not vices,” the red mage shakes his head with feigned disgust and then gets serious again. “For a start, you can find out if anyone in the Thaumaturges' Guild knows a girl who fits Arya’s description, just in case… She does not look like one of them, though.”

“Because she’s not wearing a black robe and a pointy hat?” Helvi shrugs, unconvinced. “Perhaps she simply prefers looking stylish to intimidating.”

He mimics her gesture in a mocking manner. “If so, she still has a few things to learn. Not so long ago she found _me_ intimidating.”

“Ooh. Is that vanity talking? If I say _I_ did not, will it be any consolation? Or an offence?”

“From an enemy, it would be an offence. Enemies can run scared to Seven Hells and back. But do elaborate, for I sure hope for some consolation.”

“Well then,” Helvi sits back, studying him with her eyes half-closed. “When I first met you, I thanked Menphina for not making me immune to the sight of true beauty when she'd frozen my heart.”

Leaning forward, X’rhun looks at her cautiously. “What do you mean by that?”

“Your fighting style, of course,” she says in sing-song, arms folded behind her head. “And the hat. When will I be worthy of the hat?”

“When I say so. That’s not what I asked, though.” He smiles, but his eyes show concern. “Why do you say your heart is frozen? We haven’t known each other for long, true, but for all this time I’ve only seen evidence of the contrary.”

The playful mood fades quickly; now she eyes him in silence and regrets not having ordered anything alcoholic and unpalatable enough to make her suffer. Anything harder to take than his words, than all the warmth he shows her for no bloody reason.

“Really,” she says hoarsely. “And how do you know I’m not faking it?”

“A heart never fakes it, Helvi.”

Something inside her wants to yell, like on that day in Azys Lla. Or is it really the same feeling? The same reason? How dare he claim he knows her heart? How much does he understand? How easy would it be to break down and cry in front of him?

She hasn’t even cried when the weight of her past mistakes fell down on her all at once. Not on the outside.

She clears her throat and takes a sip of her tea. “Right, so I do get soft around lost kids and other poor souls,” she says, “and we’ve got off the track quite a bit, so I think it is high time for me to call my contacts in Ul’dah. And work on the new staff.”

“Then I’ll go talk to the Yellowjackets.” X’rhun gives her a good-bye nod and gets off the bench, like everything is fine. His glass stays on the table, still full.

“Hey, may I drink your liquor so it doesn’t go to waste?”

“That’s lemonade,” he says before he leaves the inn.

When she gets to work, focused on her task and nothing else, she feel relieved and very, very lonely.

* * *

A new day breaks and the inn hall is still empty and quiet, but it is a matter of time before the deckhands and sailors gather here, making a lot of noise and looking for a place to sit.

Time to wake these two up – what are they even doing here?... Quite a heart-warming sight, albeit a little uncomfortable. Arya, curled up into a frilly pink ball beside Helvi, whose head is resting on her arms, among the tools scattered all over the table turned workbench. A brand new magic staff looks finished – all it requires is a thaumaturge who knows how to use it. And who’s not brainwashed.

“Rise and shine, my friend,” X’rhun’s gloved hand touches his student’s shoulder, but all he gets in response is an incomprehensible mumble and a smile – she never smiles like that when awake. It is Arya who gets up, blinking in surprise.

“I’m here?” she mutters while looking around, “I’m here. Where is here?”

“Aleport inn,” the red mage lowers his voice instinctively; Helvi might not have chosen the best place to rest, but she smiles so sweetly in her sleep it would be a crime to wake her up right now. “How are you feeling, lass? Remember anything?”

“I remember you two,” Arya’s gaze meets his. “You got me out of the crate… and that’s all I know.” Still, she looks more curious today than scared and that’s an improvement. “I do feel better, though. At least my body does. Will there be breakfast?”

“I’ll see to it in a moment. But first, care to explain how you got here? In this hall, not in the port.”

“I– I woke up all alone,” she says tentatively, “And it was so dark I thought I was in the c–crate again…” Her voice falters and breath gets short again. “I– I just didn’t want to be alone. I’m– I’m sorry.”

“You did nothing wrong. And I’m sure Helvi will thank you for your trust.”

“Do you think so?” The girl brightens up and looks at the woman sleeping next to her. “Does she always sleep like this? Without a pillow? She should have brought one.”

“So should you. Looks like both of you have mastered the skill of sleeping anywhere. Very useful when you’re on the road.” With a small chuckle, he moves his hand from Helvi’s shoulder to her head, running his fingers through her bristled hair. “This one must have had a lot of practice, if she’s not bothered by us talking.”

“Don’t wake her up, she’s having a nice dream!”

“Indeed. How about we surprise her with a delicious breakfast?”

The girl nods in agreement and then they exchange smiles like a pair of conspirators.

* * *

It isn’t that bad, helping in investigations. She should add it to her resume and make it official. Warrior of Light, Saviour of Eorzea, Champion of Ishgard, Master Goldsmith and Assistant Investigator! Sounds like something to boast about, doesn’t it? What impressive title will come next – Crimson Duelist?... No, that name belongs in a different place and a different time, when she was still a child, and using it would make her feel like an impostor. Again.

But this – this is not bad, even if her part is usually providing distraction and looking pretty. Well, trustworthy also works. Right now, though, _looking_ trustworthy is not enough and she’s going to do all she can to make the girl beside her feel really safe.

Because she knows all to well what it is like to be lost and confused in an unfamiliar world. Without memories.

“You can always make new ones,” she says – to Arya? To herself?

“New memories?” The girl looks at her curiously. “Will they make me a new person? With a new life?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Helvi smiles and pats her shoulder gently. “Whatever you do, life goes on and brings you something new every day. New possibilities. New paths to go, whether or not you can look back on your old life.” The more she says, the more Arya hangs on her every word, which is, frankly, a bit overwhelming. Who is she, after all, to preach like this? A broken woman who once walked out of her life and left all her memories behind. And what is she doing now, if not the same, except the old life is still there, along with the friends and allies who are waiting for her and those still missing? With the sister on the trail of an ancient dragon? With the city she grew to love, because Haurchefant was there – but what now?

Now all she can do is pretend to be whole and strong for this distressed maiden who trusts– who trusts a stranger. Now that sounds _strangely_ familiar.

And so she gives the girl a smile as reassuring as possible.

“I like it here,” Arya smiles back and looks at the sea, “It feels familiar, but is it old or new familiarity? I wonder… It is a good feeling, though.”

“Because this is where you met us?”

“Yes!... Yes, but there is another thing. The feeling I’ve been here before… But the buildings were bigger and the docks too, so it can’t be here, can it?”

“No, but it could be Limsa Lominsa,” Helvi’s smile widens, “and that would make our search easier. I was born there, you see…”

“Really? That means I’m your fellow citizen!” Arya beams with delight.

Now Helvi cannot contain a chuckle. “Indeed, even though I don’t live there anymore. But my aunt is an armourer in the residential district and my uncle runs the Misty Moonshine tavern.”

“Isn’t that the one decorated with so many lamps and lanterns? _My_ uncle took me there on my last nameday and we had the most delicious–” The girl pauses, suddenly absorbed with her own thoughts. Remembering. “Wait. Wait...”

A strange emotion surges in Helvi’s chest. “Something important, dear?”

And then the girl gasps. “...Wasn’t the owner a Miqo’te?”

“Married into the family, yes.” The emotion bursts out with another chuckle. “Anything else that is important? Like more family stories you can recall?”

Only now does a realization come to Arya, so intense it makes her stagger and lean on Helvi. “No– not yet, but– but I do have an uncle. I remember. He’s my only family and we do live by the docks, and– and–” Bouncing on her toes, she throws out words like an Ishgardian machine gun spits bullets. “And it is all hazy. But I remember. I remember. I’m someone now.”

“You’ve always been, Arya.” Helvi looks at her affectionately. Was it the same for her? Is this how she relived her returning memories? No, probably not. “Come, let’s tell X’rhun about your progress. He’ll be happy to hear it.”

“Yes, let’s… let’s go back,” the girl nods, “I feel dizzy again.”

They return to the inn, where a certain red mage awaits them and is indeed moved by the news they share with him.

“Frankly, I cannot even imagine how you must feel,” he smiles widely, tail gently swishing from side to side, “But getting your memories back will sure make it easier to locate your home… and help our investigation.” When he looks at Helvi, his expression is serious again. “The Yellowjackets have secured the cargo and begun to track down the ship with its... unsettling crew. They are also willing to take care of Arya and make sure she’s safe.”

“From silent eldritch assassins who keep coming again and again?” Helvi shakes her head doubtingly. “We don’t know if they give up on her, whatever reasons they have.” There, a rational opinion. After all, she shouldn’t say outright that she enjoys having Arya around and seeing herself in her like in a mirror, right? That would be selfish.

The exchange between them is suddenly interrupted by the very subject of their conversation. “Talk with _me_ while I’m still around, please!” she cries out. “Can’t I stay with you? Where else can I feel safe if not with both of you, who saved me?”

“Go on, keep talking,” Helvi encourages her in a stage-whisper, watching X’rhun hesitate, “Just don’t mind his stern glares and you’ll see he can’t refuse you.” Clearly aware that her words are meant for him as well as for Arya, the red mage sighs, both exasperated and amused.

“Besides– besides, what if something important comes back to me?” The girl sure knows how to make the most pleading face, Twelve bless her. “Something that can help you catch those evil people? I can be useful! I can–” Fervently, she grabs the staff Helvi crafted last night and holds it before her with both hands. “I can smash things!”

That is too much for X’rhun, who bursts out laughing. A delightful victory and an equally delightful defeat.

“How can I refuse such passion?” he says, wiping a tear of joy. “We have to come up with a strategy that includes smashing things.”

“For a start, we can visit Limsa Lominsa and search for Arya’s home by the docks,” Helvi suggests with a smile, but her words meet an unexpected wall.

“N-no, there’s no need for that,” the girl shakes her head and her face suddenly turns pale, “The very thought of it makes me sad. Let’s n-not.”

“How so? Your uncle might be there, waiting…”

“No, you’re wrong. There’s no one there.” Arya says as fast as she can, as if the memories could fade when she finishes speaking. The same memories she wanted to get back. “We left the city in a hurry, but they attacked us on the road. My uncle tried to protect me, but I was captured. I think…” Breaking into tears, she drops the staff and falls into Helvi’s warm, comforting embrace. “I think they killed him.”

The Warrior of Light holds her close, wishing deep inside she too could cry it all out.


	3. Clash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they need to deal with reality after coming back from the Isle of Umbra. A random sparring session may help.

It all comes back to him.

The pain he felt at the sight of his fellow Duelists all slaughtered. The guilt, for he was not there when the killing started. The betrayal that came from one of their own. It all comes back when the mastermind behind the kidnappings and assassinations reveals himself to be the selfsame betrayer and X'rhun's former comrade in arms, now working for the Empire that conquered their homeland.

He has to relive it all once again on the way back from the Isle of Umbra, while sharing the whole story with his companions. So much sadness in their eyes, as if, for a moment, they were there with him. Helvi, being Helvi, reaches for his hand immediately, while Arya fiercely clenches the staff she was supposed to keep the undead away with, but instead she used it to protect those who had saved her.

Funny thing, courage. She looks scared now, but when Lambard appeared, she acted instinctively. Threw a fireball at him. And yet she cannot recall anyone teaching her of arcane arts. That may be a matter of her clouded memories... unless she is simply a natural. That would explain Lambard's interest in her, but if her powers awakened only now, how did he know?...

Perhaps he will spill the beans when they meet again. Before one of them dies.

As soon as they are back to Aleport, he turns to Helvi with a mixture of pride and regret. "I'm afraid this is where our lessons end. You've become capable enough to go on without a teacher and it would be too much to drag you into my personal vendetta." Too much for her; she had her share of loss and vengeance after all. "As for you, Arya, I will arrange a suitable sanctuary. I'll not turn you out to fend for yourself."

They look at him in silence, as if they heard nothing he has just said.

"I-" he tries one more time, "I shall treasure the time we spent together, my friends. May our paths cross again!"

And again, no response. He might as well turn round and walk away...

He takes but a few steps, when a strong hand grabs his arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I thought you, of all people, would know," he says, turning around and facing Helvi. "I will deal with Lambard or die in the attempt."

"So that I spend the next twenty years trying to avenge you?"

"No need for that. This is not your battle, my friend."

"You made it mine the very moment you gave me the soul crystal," she releases his arm, but it makes no difference, as her gaze still keeps him from turning around and leaving. Twelve, she is right, isn't she? "How many of those assassins do you think he's created? Even your magic might not be enough against all of them."

"Those are mere puppets; only their master poses a true threat."

"Well, I'm no puppet, so you can't hang me up on a peg," her voice may be calm, but her eyes, blazing like twin suns, speak more than words. "You're used to fighting alone, I get it, but this time I'm going with you." And so it is, so simple when she says it. So easy to understand. She's willing to follow him to hells as long as it makes things right for her. Brings her peace of mind. Better that than drinking oneself to stupor and drowning in guilt, but...

Twelve, the selfsame determination she is showing right now is what made him offer her his teachings and company, isn't it? Why refuse it now?

"You..." he sighs, defeated. "Fine. I can see I'm wasting my breath. But don't think that I'm not aware of what's driving you."

Her golden eyes narrow; she's about to refute his claims, when Arya cuts in. "What about me? I can't let that monster take anyone else. I want to help you save others, just like you saved me!"

"You too, lass? I should have guessed you two would team up against the voice of reason."

"Is it unreasonable, wishing to make a difference? As things stand, I'm just a burden to you, I know that, but you could teach me red magic, too. Now that I know I can cast spells, I want to learn. And if I learn from you, I can defend myself!"

"She's got a point," Helvi puts in. "From what we know, even the Thaumaturges' Guild may not assure her safety, if Lambard is still after her. We can protect her... and she won't find a better teacher than you."

"Really?" Arya does a happy bounce.

"Really. Who do you think taught me?" Helvi pulls her into a hug. "And forget that crude staff, I'll make you a fine rapier."

And that's it. They have made a decision, those incorrigible, damned, _blessed_ women, one following the other's footsteps, and all he can do about it is keep quiet and withdraw to the inn. This certainly calls for a drink - to stare at in silence while thinking over the past and the possible future. It is not a happy occasion to toast to... even though the presence of two students following him and chattering about weapons and magic makes it somewhat less unhappy. Against the voice of reason.

* * *

For the last three days she's been busy making calls. Well, also practising magic with Arya, but mostly calls. Contacting her old allies - the Grand Company members, the former Crystal Braves, anyone who could make their quest easier and less desperate. It feels awkward to reach out to them after she left Ishgard and some of them keep asking questions about her whereabouts she doesn't feel like answering... but that is their right and her leaving was quite abrupt. And selfish. And possibly making people worry.

Recently, she hasn't been putting much heart into helping others, but now all she wants is to stop that impossibly kind man from getting himself killed for his ideals. Not let that sweet lost girl become a mindless puppet, because she insisted to come along. She knows all to well how badly succumbing to vengeance can end. Has she contributed to that by crafting a weapon for Arya? A girl has a right to protect herself, though. To fight for herself. Why refuse her? As for their mentor... Since their return from the Isle of Umbra, they've hardly talked to each other, as if there was an invisible wall between them, deafening every sound. So much to talk about, but so hard to start. Is it bad to understand each other well? Can it be an obstacle?

Or is she herself an obstacle? She didn't want to look for new connections after all, for new people to get attached to, so perhaps it is her own mind that sets up defences. Now! When it is too late to change anything!... But she's always been too slow with her reactions, so there's nothing to be surprised with...

There they are, coming back from their training; Arya is reluctant to let her new rapier out of her hand, while listening to X'rhun talk about old times. Funny, how quickly she warmed up to him after that unfortunate first impression.

(How many people find _Helvi_ intimidating? Once it bothered her. Then she stopped caring. Now...?)

"We're setting of tonight. There is no reason to delay it anymore," even if his words are meant for Helvi, he's not quite looking at her. Arya's face turns pale - their decision of going back to the city she barely remembers must have made her upset. Helvi only nods in reply, putting on a reassuring face for the girl's sake.

As X'rhun continues telling his new student the story of the fall of Ala Mhigo, Helvi can hear a hint of regret in his voice, but when he moves on to the Crimson Duelists, there is something more there. Stronger. Bitter. Even he is not unbreakable, it seems.

A little voice in the back of her head says: _And it makes you feel better about yourself, doesn't it?_

No.

* * *

They disembark from the ferry in Limsa Lominsa after an uneventful cruise.

"When you cast your spells," Helvi appears to be absorbed by the view, when in fact she's focused on Arya, "do you feel the surge of aether around you? Or inside you?" On the contrary, she sounds genuinely interested.

The younger girl, on the other hand, seems distracted by the question; until now, just like X'rhun, she was gazing at the sea, watching out for anything suspicious - a merchantman with a strange crew on board, for a start - and now she stares at the city before her. "Me? My magic?" she stammers and collects herself as quickly as she can. "I felt it around me when I cast that first spell, on the Isle of Umbra. I did it without thinking, you know, but then... I've been watching you do magic, trying to focus like you do..." She touches the crystal at her belt and smiles. "It feels so strange. Exhausting, yes, but also amazing. To think that this power comes from me directly..."

"You're doing it right. This is the primary rule of red magic: your only source of power is yourself." Helvi nods and smiles at her approvingly. "Therefore you must always stay in shape. Be strong, both your body and spirit, so no exhaustion gets the better of you." It was a good idea, putting her in charge of spell-casting lessons; one could say both speak the same language, using magic intuitively and understanding each other well. Thankfully, they did not started trying out any spells when aboard... It would be quite a spectacle, true. And it might draw unwanted attention... What if they got a chance to board Lambard's ship _today_? Helvi is both capable and eager to fight, while Arya, even with her innate abilities, still has a lot to learn. Would they be ready? Would _he_ be ready to risk their lives along with his own?

An Idea one must needs get accustomed to.

That is why he was reluctant to take students before, no matter how badly he wanted to pass on his legacy, there was always that irrational fear deep down, fear they would end like his fallen comrades.

Or like their killer, power-hungry and devoid of humanity.

"You look positively bored, stranger," Helvi approaches him and leans over to take a glance below the rim of his hat. "Or is it brooding? Please, don't be brooding, that's my field."

"A field you cannot stay in for long, I take it. There's too much life in you for that."

"Likewise. And all this life demands action," her stare is as intense as it is inscrutable. "How about some training? No holding back, unlike with Arya."

His eyes widen in surprise. "Here? Now?"

"You never know where or when we face our enemy," she hums musingly, her hand already resting on the hilt of her weapon. "Come on, spar with me. No spells which could hit a passer-by, just blade against blade. Let's show our young friend how it is done by-" whatever she was going to say, breaks off as he strikes without warning.

She doesn't seem surprised; perhaps she knew what he was about to do from her Echo, but how, if he didn't know that himself? Hells, until now he did not realize how much he craved a duel without holding back! A duel with a worthy opponent who is not a foe - who does not require killing. She may know all his moves, just as he knows hers - he taught her, after all - but it doesn't make the sparring any more predictable. Or less enjoyable, for that matter.

Or is she really enjoying herself? If all she wants is training, why are her moves so fierce, why are her eyes blazing again? What is she fighting against? Who is she seeing before her - the man who killed her knight? The one who framed her for murder? Someone else entirely?

Or is she giving her all to become a formidable foe in his eyes?

Their wild dance has already attracted audience. Arya is there too, standing agape, eyes sparkling in admiration. The pier has gotten inconveniently smaller; it is time to end this before Yellowjackets come running. Their arms clamour as they clash one last time, Helvi standing on the edge of the pier. True, she is strong and agile, but he's still more experienced. It wouldn't be hard to push her off and she's well aware of it. Waiting. Waiting for his next move as much as he waits for hers.

Nothing happens.

"Forgotten already, Rhun? No holding back."

He can't tell what surprises him more - the intimate version of his name or the softness of her voice, as if she was speaking to Arya or the Wilkin girls or any lost soul who needs comfort. Right now, during a duel? Does she mean to confuse him? Besides, he was not going to hold back!

"Haven't forgotten anything," he says, filling his focus crystal with aether. Helvi smirks and adjusts her weapon...

Twin lightnings strike at the same time and their furious collision throws both duelists off the pier.

A huge splash and then the water muffles all other sounds. It feels cold and cleansing, cooling down the fighting fervour - until a sudden realization comes. The cape will need wringing. The _hat_ will need wringing. Hells, all the clothes will crunch from salt!

As fast as possible, X'rhun climbs back on the pier, accepting Arya's helping hand. The crowd has not scattered yet and two men with the appearance of sailors help Helvi get up, openly leering at her figure underneath the soaked clothes. That doesn't even make her blink.

"I thought you said no spells!" Arya cries out, both startled and excited.

"No passer-by got hit, so all is well," Helvi replies with a shrug, while X'rhun says, "Lambard will not play fair."

"That doesn't mean we have to act like him. And what was that about holding back while training me?!"

Helvi smiles innocently, as she comes closer, not bothered by being wet at all. "It was about all those times when you yelled at us in terror, because you didn't want your new blaud to get torn."

"This is a red mage uniform! Of course I don't want it damaged!" Arya looks at her in outrage, but then calms down with a sigh. "But honing my skills is more important. I suppose I'll just need to train dodging more."

"We can work on that. And don't worry about your clothes; I'm sure our mentor has already ordered a few more sets for you, just in case." Hearing those words X'rhun can't help but snort, while getting the salty water out of his gloves. A few sets, indeed. With students like those two, a separate set for each day of a year might be necessary. For all three of them.

"Got enough action or shall we go to round two?" Helvi asks quietly, turning to him in expectation.

He looks closely at here face, unsure of what he may find there. "I've already agreed to take you along. Is there anything else we haven't settled?"

"Is this how we settle things?" Both her expression and her voice show something completely different from his guesses. Relief. Amusement. A hint of concern which warms his heart. Nothing he expected to see, but perhaps all he hoped for - getting lost in blind rage does not become her at all. "Sure, we've been under a lot of strain recently... which is why I was aiming for release."

He humours her and smiles. "There are less violent ways of blowing off steam."

"That's right. And less appropriate to do in public, for that matter," she smiles back; knowing her, he should have guessed what she would think of. "Besides, I thought you might enjoy duelling with someone who's not your dreaded arch-enemy. Even if it is just an insubordinate student."

"Much more than just a student," he admits; there's no reason to hide it from the one who did not want him to travel alone. "A new comrade. A true companion. Which is why it would hurt me if you shared my old comrades' fate, do you understand? Whatever happens, promise you will be careful. Neither of us wants yet another reason for vengeance."

He can see a glint of understanding in her eyes, and then her smile becomes more rueful. For a moment. Until she chuckles and wraps her arm around his shoulders, beckoning Arya to join and complete the idyllic picture.

"I don't see what could be even less proper than a fight in public," the girl pouts, arms crossed over chest, "Especially a fight between friends. Because you're friends again, right? I'm not sure what happened just now, but this much I can see." Suddenly, she fixes them with an alarmed glance. "When exactly are you going to teach me for real, so next time I can pull you two apart with no effort?"

"We can start right away, now that we've already caused a commotion," X'rhun grins at her, "or we can go look for your home. It is up to you."

"Neither of those are good," despite being the shortest in the group, Arya manages to look down on them. Interesting. "Have you forgotten you're both drenched?! We can't either train or investigate, if you're bed-ridden and sneezing!"

"Indeed," Helvi says, pulling her close with her free hand. "Let's get dry, then."

Just like that, they leave the docks, passing by the crowd and two confused Yellowjackets. And by the time they reach the Drowning Wench, none of them feels cold anymore.

* * *

Later, in the inn's main hall, the air of levity around them only increases, to the extent that I'tolwann has already checked on them three times to make sure they haven't sneaked their own liquor in. None of these things, though, as they only drink ginger tea, which prevents cold. More or less dried, outer garments off and no more suspicious squelching in boots and most of all, no more talking about vengeance, at least for tonight. Instead, they they laugh over their delicious toasts at Helvi's tale of the Moogles of the Churning Mists.

"Truly, if those Moogles are able to melt an Ice Heart, you might want to stay away from their abode and not mention them ever again," X'rhun gives a relaxed smile, glancing at Helvi curiously across the table. This time, she does not take offence, too busy staring at his twitching ears. Has she ever seen him without his fabulous hat? Probably not.

"Such an adventure! I wish I could share it with you," Arya bursts into giggle which ends with a sigh. "Unfortunately, I'm still a coward. Before I face dragons, I have to gather the courage to face the city where I've lived all my life. I think." Having said that, she beams again. "But I will get there, I promise!"

"I know you will," Helvi says affectionately. "Did you at least look around while our walk to the inn? Or should we check the docks near Mealvaan's Gate?"

"I'm still not sure... But I've got a feeling that if I closed my eyes, my legs would carry me to the right place."

Helvi nods and smiles at her own memories - that's exactly what she felt like, when she arrived at Limsa Lominsa after five years of travelling. And she still feels like that at times, wondering where her home is. Sure, the right answer is people rather than a place... as long as they stay in her life. Or even if they don't.

They chat for a while, until Arya's eyes run with tears from stifled yawns. "I better go get some sleep," she says. "Maybe tomorrow I'll be braver, you know. Well-rested and all."

Helvi and X'rhun watch her go and smile when she turns around to wave at them... and then their smiles fade, when she runs into two Hyuran men who look somewhat familiar. Flushing and muttering apologies, she tries to walk round them, but they block her way, clearly intent on having a chat her; the younger man even takes her hand in a way that's supposed to be gallant. Possibly.

"May I offer more tea?" The Miqo'te table wench pops out of nowhere, still eyeing them with suspicion, as if there was anything to suspect. Just because they walked into the Wench somewhat shakily, laughing to tears for no apparent reason. That was two hours ago, gods damn it!

"No, thank you, I'tolwann," Helvi says flatly, "Unless we're allowed to spill it over the _gentlemen_ over there." One of the 'gentlemen', the older one, senses her staring and smirks at her. Only then does she recognize them as the sailors who helped her out of the water. Somewhat handsy, those two.

"Don't you even," the woman's eyes twinkle as she reaches for her apron - isn't there something else twinkling underneath? Like daggers? "If there's a brawl to stop, it is I who will stop it." She grins as if she was about to _start_ it. Perhaps Helvi was wrong about her. Perhaps it wasn't suspicion, but anticipation.

"No, wait-" X'rhun stops her, watching his young student with great interest. "She's got everything under control." Indeed, as the men grow more insistent, Arya gives them quite a long talk with a polite smile that seems to confuse them even more than her words. Then, both of them take a quick glance at Helvi - now that's interesting - and start moving backwards, trying blindly to find the exit and running into other patrons, who are, to put it mildly, not pleased with it.

"Oh, for the love of-" I'tolwann hisses like an angry coeurl, rushing towards the starting brawl she wished for; meanwhile, Arya, the self-proclaimed coward, heads for her room, not disturbed by anyone else.

"Now look at that," Helvi gives a hearty laugh. "Our girl has a way with words!"

"You care for her a great deal," X'rhun says musingly.

"That I do," she admits; her smile becomes more rueful, "The same way I care about anyone who has lost their way and memories. Even if I'm bad at looking after myself, I can at least look after them. There's nothing more to it."

"If you say so," he pats her hand gently, somewhat amused. "Well, how about we retire to our rooms, before that overeager lass comes back with more tea?"

"Go ahead; I'll have a chat with the esteemed owner of this place, before she tells him it is all our fault." For the last time, she glances at I'tolwann scolding a small group of angry sailors; S'dhodjbi, the other table wench, has joined her in support. "And don't forget to barricade your door from the inside," she calls out, while heading towards the bar, "In case I try to burst in with another brilliant idea of entertainment!"

"On the contrary, I hope you will come straight to me. The city may not be ready for you, while I've already got some practice," he laughs and then he leaves.

She can't help laughing too, shaking her head, while Baderon observes her, not at all bothered by the commotion in his inn.

"Interestin' company ye brought tonight, lass. That eager to protect yer reputation, eh?"

"It is my sanity he's concerned about," she replies. "And he's probably right."

"Ain't all of them 'venturers a tad insane?" He ruffles her hair, as if she still was that wide-eyed girl who used to come here and listen to adventurers' tales when her father and aunt were at work. "I remember yer old man 'avin' a few brilliant ideas, too. All fun an' well, as long as they don't cost ye yer life."

"I'm not allowed to die, old friend. Not until fate is done with me. Or the gods, if you will."

"Lemme guess, 'Erlfryd: ye've got yerself involved into another dangerous business, right? Easy, lass, I'm not one to preach. Just be sure to come round and share the story, once ye end it."

"How about I make something up on the spot? That's how it usually is; no story would ever be told, if everyone waited for the endings." Suddenly, she remembers something Thancred told her over a drink, soon after the Praetorium, when he had a lot to recover from. "Truth is, it is us who end, while stories go on and on." She winces as soon as she echoes these word. Hells, that must have been quite a drink.

"My word, if ye get all philosophical after a cuppa tea, I dread to see ye drunk! But tell me this: if there's no ending for ye, then _what_ is there? "

"Excuse me, it was three cups," she corrects him, still feeling the taste of ginger in her mouth. "And right now... I'm thinking about starting over. Again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come to think of it, 'In which the students walk all over the mentor, while _I'll be thunder_ by Tina Turner plays in the background' might be a more accurate summary.


End file.
